Falling
by she who laughs
Summary: There's a new student at Degrassi. In a season of love and romance, what will happen? Read and review, please.
1. On the Bus Mall

Of all the things I could have done with my day, I had chosen to ride the bus around the city for however long I possibly could. The last thing I wanted to do was to go home, where boredom would overtake me if nothing else did first. Either way, the bus seemed a fair deal. Only a few dollars for an all-day pass; could there be a better deal?

Maybe there was.

At exactly 9:18 AM, I boarded the bus. My hair flew behind me, down straight for lack of anything more interesting to do with it. Everyone else could always do such pretty things with their hair, but mine didn't do much. I took a seat near the middle. The way I saw it, where you sat was a very big deal. You see, if I took a seat near the front, I'd appear like a goody two-shoes, something I'd been trying to get away from for several years. But if I sat in the back of the bus, it'd look like I was one of those kids who tries to rebel against the crowd, but really end up becoming part of the biggest percentage of the teenage population for doing so.

It was complicated.

I had woken up in a bad mood. Like really, a _horrible_ mood. But, as always, I got over it. A bit of coffee and a bagel did the trick. It was nice being a junior, I felt more mature. Too bad I didn't have a car yet, otherwise I would have driven around all day; I could have gone to someone's house and hung out there for a while. Maybe they would have had some good food, something my family had clearly forgotten for the last few months. Oh well. I was stuck here.

I glanced across the aisle, and there he was. It was fall, the season of scrupulous raking; and that of romance. I was hoping for the latter.

And, of course, on all days that I could meet a potential date, I looked like complete crap. Worse than that; I hadn't even taken a shower that morning. Oh, God forbid that he looked at me.

He was wearing those brown shoes that were almost black, but not quite. They weren't tennis shoes, but the kind you might see a man of – say, 63? – wearing after retirement as he walked around on his new yacht. They were shiny, too. But not too shiny. My eyes slowly made their way up to his calves, then his waist. He was wearing jeans with an obviously not pre-ripped hole in the side, by his left pocket. There was one forming in the knee too, where he might have fallen or something. I didn't know, nor did I really care.

I looked up at his torso. He wore a t-shirt publicizing some local band that I hadn't heard of. I knew it was local simply because of the 'Toronto, Canada' listing at the bottom. He had a black blazer on overtop of the shirt, with gold buttons. An interesting outfit, but not bad to say the least. In my head, I wondered what he'd look like without a shirt. I envisioned it in my mind, and a smile crept to my lips. He was dark, toned and had a few scratches here and there. I added a scar on the stomach, from the removal of an appendix. I don't know, he just looked like he didn't have an appendix.

After closing and reopening my eyes, he had a shirt on again. I paused in my search and finally made my way to his face. Just as I imagined: dark. A pair of square, black glasses sat on his pointed nose as he read a book that he held in his lap. It was bright pink and titled 'Basics of Accounting – Book One.' Funny, I had always imagined a book on accounting to be more of an – oh, say, _taupe_ color. To each his own, I supposed.

His eyebrows were very defined, black as the keychain that my mom had left out on the counter that morning. His hair was combed, but messy. Overall, he was a good pick. I made a note of his lips; one side was almost always slightly curled in a smile. He chuckled; something must have been funny in his book. I don't know what could have been, but… okay.

At that moment, his eyes met mine. He looked up and our gaze locked. If only for a few seconds, we were cosmically aware of each other's existence. But isn't that what life is?

His arm reached up to the cable, and he pulled it as a bell sounded in the bus. We were the only two passengers at the time, and as we came to a stop, the person I had been watching stood up and began to make his way out, away from his stalker. Just as he passed me, I felt his leg brush against mine, and a soft set of words came out of his mouth. "Ben," he said quietly.

"Emma," I replied.

And then, just like that, he was gone.


	2. Vending Machine Encounters

"You just need to focus, that's all." It went in one ear and out the other. I stared blankly up at my teacher and step-father, whom I had learned to both love and hate depending on the situation. My blonde hair was pulled back in a lazy bun today, as I had come in late for school due to my alarm clock's personal problems. I guess it hadn't wanted to wake me up either.

"Okay," I replied, my eyes coming to a close as my mouth opened for a yawn. I wanted to go to bed more than ever. I hadn't been able to fall asleep until around two the night before, and trust me, that was not an Emma-bedtime. But, of course, JT had just _had_ to keep me up, talking about his math homework. Sometimes I hated the telephone. Alexander Graham Bell should have invented something less tiring.

I stared at the computer screen, when suddenly, my stomach let out a growl more fierce than a lion. I looked up at Archie, who nodded knowingly. "Just don't take too long," he said quickly as I walked out of the room, venturing to the vending machine across the school.

Our school was too big sometimes. I got lost in it. It was like when I was little, and I'd get lost in the grocery store, separated from my mom, who would spend the next ten minutes looking for me until I ran into her shopping cart. But our school was bigger than the nearest Food 2U. Arriving at the vending machine, I dug around in my sweatshirt pockets for two dollars.

Great. I was broke.

"Having trouble?" I heard a voice call from behind me. Just as I was about to turn around, I felt something being inserted into my hand. "You can pay me back later, Emma."

I was about to look behind to see who had given me the money, until my eyes met the back of a head that I almost immediately recognized. The guy on the bus – here? Whatever. "Thanks… Ben," I shouted across the hall, fiddling with the buttons on the machine. "See you later."


End file.
